


Our Push and Pull

by YvonnePersonne



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Because I don't think anyone has done it, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Probably something steamy since their sexual tension is IMPECCABLE, Resolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, and, there are too few AU's in this fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27100639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YvonnePersonne/pseuds/YvonnePersonne
Summary: A flower shop opens up in front of Zulema's tattoo parlour, and the owner at first glance seems to be a basic, boring white woman, but on further inspection turns out to be far more interesting.
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	1. The Juding of Signs

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey my dear readers, this will be my first Vis a Vis fanfic so I hope any of my Killing Eve fans aren't too disappointed. I'll try to update as often as I can but I can't promise any scheduled uploading.

8.15 in the morning. The banging and screwing had been going on for _at least_ an hour, and Zulema was about to fucking murder someone. 

She's standing outside her shop with her warm coffee mug in hand, mouth hanging slightly open in disbelief as they put up a _giant_ pastel-salmon-ish pink sign on the store opening adjacent her own. As she reads the name of her new neighbouring shop, her already-open mouth widens marginally, and she furrows her brows in disgust. Someone walks up beside her, and she doesn't have to turn to know who it is. 

Saray leans in with equal disgust as if she can't believe what she's seeing. 

"Does that say what I think it does?" She asks, glancing at Zulema.

"Yup," Zulema says and closes her mouth for the first time for maybe 5 minutes, " _Flor-reriro_." She says as if the name had personally offended her. 

It had just about the worst name _and_ aesthetic she has _ever_ seen. The text is in Playfair Display, which is just screaming basic-bitch from miles away. And, It doesn't help how awfully it clashes with her own flawlessly named and designed sign, _Stinger._ The text is in italics, coloured a subtle mint green on an almost-black background, and the actual name perfectly references the sting of getting a tattoo and being stung by a scorpion, the iconic logo for her brand.

Taking a step further she notices the small curly text under 'Flor-reiro', _"The Ferrerio Family Flower Shop"_. 

"Jesus..." She mutters under her breath.

Suddenly a sort of posh white Sedan pulls up, and out of it steps a sort of posh white woman. A head full of dyed blonde hair looks up at the sign, and the woman puts her fists on her hips as she inspects it, then turns around to look at her surroundings. It takes a while for her to spot the two women looking at her, but when she does, she approaches them with a big poster-picture smile.

"Oh geez here we go..." Saray mutters more to herself than Zulema.

" _Hola chicas_!" She says as she crosses the street to greet them.

"Are you the owners of the tattoo parlour?" She asks, still with a hand on her hip.

Zulema nods slowly.

" _Si_." She adds after a while. The woman seems lost in thought as she looks into Zulema's eyes. Noticing the silence, she snaps out of it and extends a hand.

"I'm Macarena Ferrerio," She says, hand still hovering in the air. Understanding it has been rejected she retracts it as if burned, and nervously brushes it on her jeans. Her smile falters, and then she tries to gather herself and thrusts a thumb to the building behind her.

"Yeah, I'm the owner of the new shop-" 

"With the four f's." Zulema finishes and Macarena looks at her blankly before nodding. 

"Interesting sign." Zulema says, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. Saray snorts beside her and tries quickly to cover it up with a cough. The exchange didn't go unnoticed on the blonde, and the previous innocent smile she had falls a bit but is then instantly replaced with a smile with a bit more bite.

"Yes, your sign is certainly also..." She looks up at the sign, flinches, and breathes in sharply through her teeth. "Special, to say the least." She finishes. 

Zulema tilts her head up and looks down at the blonde through hooded eyelids. 

Something shifts in the air as their eyes lock onto one another. Zulema had at first regarded her with boredom, but as she gazes at Macarena, she notices how the unsureness from before has fully evaporated and has become unbridled confidence. Suddenly they are no longer just looking at each other. Instead, it signals the start of a challenge. 

Breaking the atmosphere, Saray clears her throat beside them.

"We have to open the parlour, it was nice to meet you Ferrerio." Saray mumbles and puts a hand to Zulema's chest to signal their leave. Zulema looks down at the forgotten cup in her hand and raises it slightly in the direction of Macarena as a goodbye, before turning to leave with Saray beside her.

"Wait," Macarena says before Zulema has taken even just one step, "you never told me your name."

Zulema turns to lock eyes with her once more and flashes her a mischievous grin.

"Zulema Zahir." She says and then closes the door behind her.

.

After watching the two women leave, Macarena turns with a huff, her eyes landing on the now finished sign.

 _Who did she think she is_? Macarena thought. 

She wasn't going to let herself be intimidated just because she was new in town. That didn't change the fact that she _had_ been intimidated, but that was beside the point. When she had looked into those cryptic eyes, something had ignited inside of her. Small crackles and sparkles hinting at a potential blazing glory. She didn't know what it meant just yet, just that there was something about that woman, Zulema Zahir, that flicked a switch inside her brain. They'd barely exchanged any words, but their non-verbal communication said more than any other form of communication ever could.

Shaking any remaining thoughts off, she approaches her new store. 

She'd always been fond of the idea of owning a flower shop. That, and the romantic idea of finding love through it. A gruff looking man doing the sweet act of finding flowers for someone he cares about seems so romantic in Macarena's eyes, even though she knew it was unrealistic. Just flowers and plants were fascinating on their own, though. There were so many different flowers and plants with unique patterns, colours, scents, and countless combinations. The language of the floral is one that has existed for many years and has always resonated with Macarena. Something so simple that can potentially evoke something so powerful. 

Entering through the wide glass doors she takes in the space around her and starts planning how she will decorate and make the place uniquely hers.

.

"So..." Saray begins, "We have a new neighbour." She says to no one in particular, more to the whole room.

"As if we hadn't noticed." A grumpy Altagracia huffs at the back of the studio, having arrived at the parlour in a piss poor mood. 

Saray chuckles a bit.

"Was the man you hooked up with that bad, Alta?" Saray jokingly says, leaning on her black tattoo station next to the seat where a client would be. 

Saray owns a nightclub nearby, and the previous night she'd watched a slightly disgusted but desperate Altagracia take a man home who had been slobbering all over her the whole night. Clearly, she didn't make the right pick. 

"Saray, _cállate_!" Altagracia says and stares daggers at Saray, who only laughs at her reaction. 

The dinging from the doorbell makes the few heads turn to see another brunette open the door.

"What have I missed?" Helena asks as she sees the exchange, and starts dumping her things by where she usually sits. Altagracia stares at Saray, silently pleading for her to stay quiet, but Sarays grin somehow widens even more. 

"Nothing," She says innocently, and Altagracia breathes out a small breath of relief. "just that Altagracia here has terrible taste in men, and gets her ass bit because of it." Saray chuckles as she says, and Altagracia turns stale. 

"Or rather _doesn't_ get her ass bit." She adds to the end and starts laughing harder than before, only to get Altagracia's bag hurled to her face.

Zulema had watched the whole thing with slight amusement but seeing the dark look on Sarays face she knew she had to put them back in place.

" _Niñas,_ time and place, we are supposed to be adults here, act like it." She says, making sure they heard her loud and clear. The parlour turns quiet and feeling satisfied she starts preparing her day with a final muttered,

" _Joder_..."

Her day is packed, and she needs to keep her focus. She glances at the clock on the wall. 

8:40.

Her station is near the little reception where a quiet Casper sits looking at her phone, waiting for clients to come so she can book them in. The fact that Zulema sat at the front was deliberate. She wanted the potential clients that stumbled in would see her first, the best, at work. 

Looking out, she can see the blonde from before standing in her empty shop. Macarena takes a few steps and looks around as if mentally mapping how it would look when finished. Just a few moments later, she has her phone up, and quickly what Zulema assumed to be a casual phone call turns into a heated debate, and she watches as Macarena paces back and forth. Eventually, the call ends and Macarena visibly takes a few breaths to calm down. Zulema scolds herself for staring and jerks her head to the clock on the wall opposite her.

8:55.

Soon her first client would come, and any stray thoughts of the blonde will be shaken off.

.

The moving van was late. _Perfect_. She'd tried to figure out what had gone wrong and why it was suddenly delayed, and it would've been alright if they gave a valid reason instead of being vague about it. All they'd told her was that they didn't know when they would be there, but she guessed it would take way longer than she prefered.

"pedazos de _mierda..._ " Macarena mutters under her breath. 

Not having much more to do than wait, she decides to take a walk and see what kind of place this is. The sun is blazing hot and it was a perfect day out, so really, she's glad the van was late. Fuck those _imbéciles,_ she was going to have a nice day outside.

Most buildings, including her own, had simple brick stone walls but as she walked she started seeing more modern buildings.

After walking for a while, she turns a corner, and on the other side of the street she sees a big sign with bold letters, ' **Curise Del Sur** '. It looks like a nightclub. 

_What a name_ , Macarena snorts to herself. _Maybe I'll check it out later._ Macarena had barely met anyone as she had strolled through the streets, she wasn't surprised since it was a Monday and people were working right now. Being the only thing of interest, Macarena thinks back to the black-haired woman she met before, Zulema. She wonders if they'd get to know each other well or if they'd always only know each other at face value. 

Something about the woman makes Macarena want to know more about her. She had seen the tattoo on her face, entirely expected from a tattoo artist, but she also wonders what it means, and what other tattoos the woman has. She intrigues her. She has the sort of energy to her that she could get anything she wants, as long she wants it enough. 

Suddenly Macarena feels a buzzing in her pocket. Without looking at her phone she answers. 

"Changed plans, the van is coming in half an hour."

"Oh, por el amor _de Di-_ "


	2. Darkness and danger loves you, doesn't it?

Macarena's whole body aches, especially the soles of her feet and back. She has been fixing up the place since around 9:30, and now the clock was- she opens her phone and looks at it-  _ 18:30 _ . 

_ Joder _ , no wonder she's so tired. At least her shop is starting to look like a proper flower shop and not just an empty building. Macarena had managed to get a lot of her plants from her home with her, and now flowers and plants of all sizes filled her view. 

Of course, she would fill it up with more and grow even more than that, but she was proud of the progress she has made. 

Suddenly she hears the door behind her open, and she turns around.

"Sorry we're not open right now." She apologizes as she faces a cute, curly-haired woman with dark skin. 

"Ah, my bad." There's a little pause where it seems she wasn't really ready with what she wanted to say. "Ah- you're new here aren't you?" 

" _ Si,  _ I am." Macarena answers and the woman snaps her fingers.

"Knew it, I'd never forget a face like yours." She says with a gleaming smile. Macarena raised her eyebrows, not 100% whether that was a compliment or insult, although she was pretty sure it was a compliment if the look on the woman's face was anything to go by.

"A face like mine?" Still, she just had to be sure.

"Pretty." The woman answers, showing pearly whites again. 

_ Compliment then, wait- was this woman hitting on her? _ Macarena thinks and finds that if that's the case then she doesn't mind it, even though she has never found the opposite sex interesting beyond friendship. This move was supposed to be a start of new beginnings, so maybe she should do the things she's never had half a mind to do.

Macarena ducks her head, slightly embarrassed at being so boldly complimented, but then smiles back at the woman before her. 

Then the woman springs into action and takes a few long steps to her,

"I totally forgot," She slaps a hand to her forehead, "I'm Kabila, but everyone calls me Rizos." She says and holds out a hand to her. 

Macarena looks at it and remembers how she had been rejected by an entirely different person to the one in front of her now. 

She shakes it and smiles a gentle smile.

"Macarena Ferreiro, but you can call me Maca." 

Releasing her hand, Kabila takes a step back. For a moment she seems lost in thought until she suddenly blurts out,

"What would you say to a night out?"

"A-"

"Not just the two of us then," Kabila hurries to explain, "my ex has this insane nightclub just a bit away, her and some friends are going to be there tonight. You  _ have  _ to come if you're new in town." 

Macarena's feet may be sore, but the need to just let loose after a day of only working is overwhelming, so, she finds herself agreeing and following the brunette out.

.

At 18:43 Zulema locks up the parlour. Everyone had left more than half an hour earlier than her, but she had to stay late and finish one of her regulars new back tattoo. She didn't want to leave so little left for another time, and she was glad she took her time. After finishing she had taken in her work and had felt the familiar proud pang she often got when she knew she had done a good- no,  _ amazing  _ job. It was an intricate piece, mandala style, from his shoulders, dipping down his spine and then up and along his neck. 

She'd always craved excitement, and whilst clubbing, fucking, stealing and hitting strangers all alike gave her a kick, she also gets a similar feeling when finishing a piece. It isn't quite as powerful, but it  _ is  _ rewarding, and it's the closest thing to the feeling she can get whilst doing something legal. Knowing that something she made would be on somebodies body for the rest of their life filled her up in a way she can't describe to anyone who doesn't do it themselves. 

Zulema turns around after locking the door to the parlour to see Macarena locking up her store in the same way, with a familiar set of curls excitedly chattering away next to her. As if sensing her presence, Macarena turns and looks her way, and so does the head of curls. 

Zulema lets her eyes travel from blonde to brunette, and it doesn't take much to realize who it is, even in the dark of the evening.

_ Ah, of course, Rizos. She never did turn down the chance to fall headfirst for any new face she found pretty.  _ Zulema thinks to herself and turns her gaze to the blonde, and for a moment they just stare at each other, lost in each others gazes until the blonde tares her gaze away to look at the suddenly very interesting ground.

Rizos waves at her awkwardly.

" _ Hola _ , Zulema."

" _ Rizos _ ." Zulema answers then glances to the blonde next to her " _ Rubia _ ." 

" _ Hola _ ." The blonde answers, a bit meekly. 

Something about the dark of the night seemed to envelop around Zulema, making her more threatening than in the light of the day. Or perhaps her true nature was just highlighted. Like a black hole swallowing everything around herself until she becomes the main focus of the universe. Thankfully, Rizos quickly takes her by the arm and leads her away from Zulema. Not so thankfully, they all seem to be going the same way. 

For a moment Macarena thought Zulema was tailing them. The thought seemed ridiculous, until it didn't, but by then they had already been walking for a while, so when she was about to voice her concerns to Rizos she found herself outside  ** Cruise Del Sur ** .

As soon as she steps inside the building, deep, rhythmic pulsations fill Macarenas ears. Like mist, the deep red light seems to drape itself over the many patrons dancing along to the music, making them blur into one moving bloody sea. 

The club is relatively big and along the walls were cubicle-like rooms with couches and tables. At the back of the club was a big bar with a huge wall filled with drinks and behind it was a mirror, making the room look bigger than it already was. The ceiling is high with long neon lights draping down like bioluminescent plants, and a second floor with a balcony looking down on the club was visible. Macarena guessed that that was the VIP-section, but didn't think much of it as she remembers Zulema's face walking behind her, illuminated by the evening light from before. Instinctively, she turns around expecting to see the woman, only to find no trace of her left. She was  _ sure  _ that Zulema had entered the club with them.

Macarena is then suddenly both figuratively and literally dragged out of her mind and is led through the crowds by Rizos, tugging at her arm.

There, at the back of the club, is an L-shaped couch filled to the brim with people. As soon as they come near it, a familiar-looking woman in a red satin suit stands up, and a bunch of 'eeey's' are heard from the couch. As the woman embraces Rizos- the gesture as familiar as breathing- Macarena tries to place why the woman looked so familiar, and then it clicks.

_ Ah, of course _ .  _ This morning next to Zulema.  _ She hadn't swallowed her focus in the same way as the raven-haired woman next to her had done, but Macarena doesn't forget faces so easily.

The woman turns her attention to Macarena, who feels the ghost of a hand on her back.

"This is Macarena," Rizos looks at her, "Maca for short." She says with a smile directed her way. The woman snaps her fingers in remembrance.

" _ Si, si _ , I met you this morning, didn't I? I never introduced myself." She takes a step forward and puts a dramatic hand to her chest, making Rizos roll her eyes.

"I am Saray Vargas, and this is my club." 

Macarenas eyebrows shoot up slightly on her forehead.

"You own this club?" Saray grins at her reaction, "How do you have the time and money to run this place?" Macarena asks.

"Some things are better kept in the dark,  _ Rubia _ ." She says with a wink. "Besides, I am not compeletly alone in running the place, Zulema may be a scorpion, but she is also my sister." She puts a fist to her heart at the mention of the woman, and as though she just noticed the woman's absence, Saray looks around, "Where is the  _ hija de puta  _ anyway?" 

The feeling of being watched creeps up Macarenas neck and turning around, she locks onto intense eyes watching her, closer than Macarena expected. Something about the look in her eyes as she lights a cigarette with slow, deliberate movement makes a shiver run down Macarenas spine. The glance is however brief, and as soon as Macarena had noticed she had  _ actually  _ shivered from a  _ single  _ look, it was over. 

Saray spots Zulema, and with the same type of 'eeey' she used to greet Rizos, she greets Zulema. With wide arms and smile along with a slow nod, Zulema steps forward into the small, secluded crowd, and the two women share a quick hug. With one arm draped around the raven-haired woman, Saray announces that she and a few more will move to the VIP section of the nightclub. 

_ Somehow _ , Macarena is in that group, and she can't seem to keep her eyes away from the stranger that she feels such an intense connection too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right okay, I kinda wanted this to be longer and with more sexual tension but look, it's supposed to be a slow burn right? I will probably make the tension higher next chapter though, so look forward to that. ;)


	3. Chemistry

Macarena sits, feeling slightly out of place, on a red couch. It was like the one downstairs, but instead of being made of leather-like-plastic, it was velvet. People were around her, but the feeling of being lonely didn't shake her. Rizos had quickly abandoned her and was currently sitting in one of the corners making out with Saray. 

There aren't many in the VIP section, but the ones that are there are casually chatting or flirting with each other, making it calm compared to the wild downstairs. The music was just as loud and the light just as blood-red, but the seemingly never-ending inferno of dance-crazed people are absent, making the atmosphere slower and seductive.

The couch dips next to her, and Macarena turns her head only to come face-to-face with a pair of intense eyes, and the desire to both lean in more and further back at the same time making her stay still. 

The alcohol must've gone to her head if she wanted to throw herself over the first hot and mysterious person she saw.  _ Wait, hot and mysteriou- _

" _ Rubia. _ " Her thoughts get cut off as Zulema greets with a small, smug grin at Macarena's apparent surprise.

"Zulema." She answers, trying to compose herself.

"I didn't know posh women liked going to nightclubs." Zulema says, and Macarena scoffs.

"I am  _ not _ posh." She says, maybe a bit too forcefully to be normal, but the woman next to her only looks more pleased at her aggressive display. The word posh has always annoyed her more than what's appropriate, since she knew it is, or at least  _ was, _ true, and how much she didn't want it to be. 

"Did I strike a nerve?" Zulema asks and chuckles, and Macarena hates how the sound makes her want to hear it again and again. 

She doesn't answer the question and instead promptly ignores the woman.

Zulema leans in so that her lips are right by Macareans ear.

"You're cute when you're angry." She purrs, and the comment is so unexpected Macarena almost gets whip-lash.

She snaps her gaze to Zulema, leaving her face just a few centimetres away from the woman. A surprised, short chuckle escapes Macarena's mouth.

"Really?" 

Zulema grins and shakes her head slightly as she looks at Macarena, then raises her eyebrows in a silent question, ' _ Que?'. _

"You're gonna piss me off, and then flirt with me?"

"Who says I'm flirting?" Zulema asks, head pulling back but eyes never leaving Macarena's.

"I'm not blind." Macarena says with a huff.

"No, I'm not saying you're blind, I'm saying you're delusional." Zulema says, amusement clear in her voice. 

Macarena chuckles and shakes her head.

"You're unbelievable."

When she looks back at Zulema, something has changed in her eyes. She can't quite place it, but it hooks her in, and for a second it feels like she could stare into her eyes until the end of time. 

Of course, that isn't the case, and her eyes quickly wander over to the tattoo under Zulema's eye. Before she really notices what she's doing, she traces the tattoo with her finger.

The other woman doesn't react much, except for the slight widening of her eyes, dark eyelashes fluttering softly.

Macarena trails her finger down to Zulema's jaw until she pulls back. The blank, bordering on hypnotized look that had adorned Zulema's face, is quickly replaced, and the dark-haired woman loses eye-contact for the first time for what felt like a lifetime.

Locking eyes with the blonde again, she leans into her ear.

"I'm going to leave now, if you follow me is up to you." She says and then leaves.

.

Macarena has only taken one step into the parlour when her back slams into the cold glassdoor. Soft lips and sharp teeth are at her neck in an instant, and Macarena feels delirious. 

The walk back had been mind-numbing, and the throbbing between her legs had only intensified as anticipation, and the friction as she walked grew.

The music from the club feels like it has come with her, because of the hard beating from her nervous heart. Macarena is pulled back by strong hands on her waist, and then they're walking to a door at the back of the parlour.

Without realizing how she got there, Macarena stands in a bedroom on the second floor. A million questions flick through her mind about the space around her and the woman in front of her. As if feeling her distractedness, the lips on her neck pull back. Dark eyes meet her own and, a hand goes to grip her jaw.

"Stop thinking, _ Rubia _ ." 

Zulema's voice has grown deeper and gravely, sending chills down Macarena's back, and always being one to please, she does as she's told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what to feel about this fic just yet, but I will definitely continue to write on it. I'd love to hear feedback!


End file.
